Cappola's non-musical screeds, delightfully peppered with right-wing and left-wing splashes of free-wheeling, anarchistic Americana, fly straight from his sly pen, laughing, hooting, celebrating and just plain digging the good stuff.

Though heterosexually-identified, Cappola is no slouch when it comes to celebrating sexual freedom, nor is Real Paper's Entertainment Director, Geoffrey Blumenauer, who recently managed tour arrangements for Laura Nyro.

"Laura Nyro brought about what I suppose was my most recent contact with the gay community," music agent Blumenauer boasts. He asked Ms. Nyro, he says, how she'd want issues that sail around her orientation handled, and she proclaimed herself open, he told GayToday, to the expansion of a rich variety along the paths of human fulfillment and liberation.

"That's what we all want," Blumenauer laughed.

Publisher Cappola, in an amusing March, 1998 tirade, lists suicides and other suspicious deaths that have been visited upon approximately 85 prominent persons close to U.S. President (and former Arkansas Governor) Bill Clinton. At the start of this conspiratorial screed—titled "Life in Nazi America"-- Cappola admits he likes to use the term BJ (undoubtedly a blow-job) when referencing the President's behavior. This, he says, tweaks his mother, who doubles as a personal censor-in-chief. He writes:

"Whether President Clinton got a BJ from Monica Lewinski is irrelevant. That's just the tip of the iceburg, no pun intended. As a matter of fact the only reason I brought this up is because I always wanted to use the word BJ in an article. Thank you Bill Clinton."

Unfortunately, Cappola continues, his Mom won't let him print it. "Damn those censors."

The March issue of Real Paper sings with tributes to a score of music heaven's finest stars, including Jimmy Buffet's handsome guitarist, Peter Mayer as well as Ed Vadas, Michelle Amato, Nyta Doval, Savoy Brown, Paul Rishell, Jacqueline Jones, Floyd Miles, Bigga, James Cotton, Johnny Dread, and Buddy Miles. Among the oldtime greats arriving in Space Coast entertainment spas in April, Leon Russell, Steve Miller, and Muddy Waters are listed.

The Real Paper fairly leaps with appreciation into the world of fine arts with Space Coast galleries advertising their paintings in its pages along with scores of musical outlets and local jazz clubs. A fan writes to Cappola and his paper's cohorts:

"It seems to this reader that the editor has evolved from a Cro-Magnon writer to a level bordering Australapithecus and leaning toward homoerectus. The Real Paper has bettered itself issue by issue. However, the constant vacillating between conservative and liberaal views by the editor are somewhat confusing.

"I am no fan of big or little government. There is no truth spoken on either side of the isle. The Grim Riper (a.k.a. the Real Paper's editor) would agree with that statement. Wouldn't he? The citizens of this nation are so apathetic toward government that it gives carte blanche to politicians. It makes me sick. The first sign of economic down-turn, those weak minded sons of bitches are the first to speak out. The voice of every citizen should be used not when things go badly but in a persistent and consistent manner with the way one feels.

Yes, the Real Paper is real Americana. If your interest is in blues, or raggae or just plain old swamp wailing, you may want to subscribe. E-mail your interest in receiving the Real Paper to: coppolag@aol.com